


every holy place

by bipolaryangxiaolong (rosesandcinnamon)



Category: RWBY
Genre: F/F, Mostly Canon Compliant, bmblb week
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-15
Updated: 2019-09-24
Packaged: 2020-06-28 16:17:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 9,158
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19815916
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rosesandcinnamon/pseuds/bipolaryangxiaolong
Summary: Day 1: Blake's not sure if her heart has stopped or is trying to beat out of her chest.Day 2: She knocks. Yang tries to ignore the twist in her stomach as Blake bounces on her toes, waiting for the door to be answered.Day 2, pt2: "I thought he was going to kill her," she says. She absently realizes that it might not be the best thing to tell Blake's mother, but she can't stop once she starts.Day 4: Yang’s heart flutters. (Yang knows she doesn’t necessarily have a heart, or relate to the human conceptualization of the heart as the center of emotion. It just seems like an easy metaphor.)Day 5: Yang wraps her hand around Blake’s wrist as she moves off of her bed. “Stay?” she asks. Blake glances back, meets a sadness in her lilac eyes that goes beyondI’m sick and I don’t feel good.It pulls at her heart; she can’t say no. She doesn’t want to.Day 6: She’s so beautiful, short hair loose and tousled, wearing an ancient sweater of Yang’s, lying in the shade and reading. She doesn’t look up as Yang approaches, but an ear twitches as her feet shift in the sand."Babe,” she says, throwing herself down next to Blake.Day 7: "How many kids do you want to have?" Yang asks, so casually.





	1. atlas ball

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heyyyy bumbleby week starts on my best friend's birthday! Happy birthday Alicia!  
> I used [this beautiful art](https://nikanono.tumblr.com/post/181176589945/youre-standing-there-with-that-look-in-your-eyes) as the inspiration for their dresses.

Atlas has been a bust, in Blake’s opinion. Ironwood was generous enough to allow them into Atlas and offer them a place to stay; his generosity ended there. He refuses to meet with any of them. It’s a tense situation for everyone, being kept in one place and not getting up to any trouble.

(Blake can’t say she minds too much. They’ve had time to restock supplies, she’s fixed Gambol Shroud, they’ve gotten new clothes for the cold weather, she cut her hair. It’s been a welcome rest.)

Winter has come by to see Weiss a few times, strictly for personal reasons. It’s at one of those visits that she mentions a ball. The sisters are in the kitchen, talking over cups of tea. It’s not like Blake means to eavesdrop, but she can hear them from the couch in the living room. She’d actually prefer not hearing them; she’s tucked into Yang’s side with a good book.

“Are you serious?” Weiss asks, offense sharp in her tone.

Blake turns her face to press it against Yang’s collarbone as her ears flatten. “What’s wrong?” Yang whispers to her, arm tightening around her shoulders. They've barely stopped touching since they landed in Atlas and Blake is intensely grateful for it.

"Winter just told Weiss something she doesn't like," Blake says, her voice low. "We'll hear about it later."

She tilts her face up to look at Yang just in time to make eye contact. The thought of _kiss me_ is her immediate reaction; Yang's so close and so beautiful and Blake can see the same longing in her expression. _Please. I want you to_. Her breath catches in her throat as Yang comes closer. Yang sets her other hand on her knee, tracing the curve of her body, and she presses her lips to Blake's forehead. The kiss lingers for a moment. A spark in her chest ignites.

Yang smiles at her when she moves back. Her eyes promise _later. Not here. Not right now_. Blake's content to wait. She's forgotten entirely about the distraction, resting her head on Yang’s shoulder and finding her bookmark.

Weiss fills them in when Winter leaves. As the “honored guests” of the Atlas military, team RWBY and all their friends have been invited to the ball. Winter has offered to cover the cost of their formal attire (though Blake suspects the icy white card she slipped to Weiss is not her own). 

“I _cannot_ believe that we’re trying to save the world and Atlas society is having a ball!” Weiss slams her weight into the couch cushion. She’s too refined for sulking, but she’s approaching it. “It’s ridiculous,” she huffs, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Aww, Weiss,” Ruby says, sitting down next to her. “At least we get a party out of it!” Weiss rolls her eyes; Ruby softens. “I know it sucks. Do you think there's a reason we're being invited?"

"I don't know," Weiss admits. "It doesn't make sense. None of this makes sense."

"It'll be alright," Yang says, coming in from the hallway. "We're all here. We'll figure something out." Even if the encouragement is meant for Weiss and Ruby, her eyes catch Blake’s. 

Ruby nods, adds a _yeah!_ with delight driven by someone else's encouragement. She keeps talking, but Blake's focus has narrowed to Yang. She smiles from the other side of the room. It's so sweet and meaningful and sunny, Blake has to wonder if she's a star in human skin.

By the time the ball rolls around, Blake hasn’t seen Yang’s dress. They had gone shopping separately and it hadn’t come up afterwards. She’s been quietly excited, though it seems like a silly thing to think about when they’ve been tasked with saving the world.

She’s forgotten about all that when she finally sees Yang. Why wouldn’t she? Her whole world has narrowed to her partner standing in front of her. Yang is so beautiful. Blake can’t breathe. Her dress is long, the full skirt brushing the floor; its yellow fabric is light, a creamy shade allowing Yang’s golden hair to shine. She’s brushed it back for once, leaving some to frame her face and pulling the rest out of her face, curls spilling down her back. Her arms are bare to the middle of her bicep, where elegant white gloves end. Her prosthetic is covered. Blake's not sure if her heart has stopped or is trying to beat out of her chest.

"Hi," Yang says, her eyes wide and shining. Her soft expression radiates sheer emotion, affection and adoration and tenderness, _love_ wrapped up in her gaze like her heart is doing the same thing Blake's is. Like it knows where home is and it's time to listen.

"Hi," Blake echoes, barely managing a whisper. "You're beautiful." Yang's cheeks turn pink and Blake just wants to kiss her until they stay that way. She wants to say more. More like _let's skip the fussy party and be together._ Like _you look like you stole the light out of the sky_. Like _I love you and I know you know but I **want** you to know._

Yang smiles, stepping closer. "You look like a queen, Blake.” Blake ducks her head, folding her hands together. She does like this dress. It’s a beautiful deep purple, following the curves of her body. Yang reaches for her hand; Blake gives it. “You’ll save a dance for me, right?” she teases.

“You can have all of them.” _I don’t want to dance if it’s not with you_ is what she means. With the way Yang’s expression softens and she laces their fingers together, she hears her.

Unsurprisingly, the high society of Atlas is incredibly boring. People make speeches about how great Atlas is. There’s fancy food and fancy people who stare at her ears. Yang squeezes her hand when she notices a hostile gaze. Dancing with Yang seems to be the only redeeming quality of the night. She’s looking forward to it. 

Even so, she’s content to sit with her at the edges of the party. The crowd seems to be putting Yang on edge; Blake doesn’t blame her at all. It’s overwhelming. She’d be happy to be here, holding her hand, for the rest of the night. 

Yang squeezes her hand. "Come with me?" she asks. Blake nods; the acceptance comes easily. If she had needed any more convincing than Yang's request, her radiant smile is enough.

She's not sure where they're going as Yang leads her out of the ballroom. She’s not even sure how Yang knows; they haven't left each other's side the entire evening. She can't find any reason to mind it too much. They turn a corner to see beautiful glass doors and a balcony beyond them.

"Oh, Yang, it's cold…" Blake whispers, conscious of their bare shoulders. 

"I'll keep you warm," Yang says. "I promise." She smiles, lets go to pull the glove off of her left arm. Blake sighs deeply, stepping closer to Yang before she even opens the door.

Atlas is cold and unkind, the sky clear of any clouds, with a chill fierce enough to bite at Blake's bones. She shivers. The stars and the moon are beautiful, admittedly; they're enough to distract her before Yang lays her arm across her shoulders. She's so warm. Blake presses herself as close as she can and stares up at the sky.

She glances to Yang’s face, only to find that she’s already looking back. The warmth of her expression catches in her own chest. The feeling from earlier reappears. She turns to face her fully, looping her arms around her neck. Yang shifts to set her hands on Blake’s waist. The cold isn’t so bad. Touching her is heaven in itself. 

Yang seems content to stare at her in the quiet, a smile set on her lips; Blake likes it well enough. But a moment together is rare. She doesn't want to waste it.

"Yang," she starts. "You’re the best choice I’ve ever made." Her voice is soft. The moonlight makes Yang's features even more ethereal. “You-”

“I love you,” Yang says. Blake’s mind goes completely blank as Yang touches her face, gently tracing the curve of her jaw to cup her cheek. “I love you and every brave choice you’ve ever made.”

“I love you.” She had been worried about her voice shaking. It doesn’t. Blake closes her eyes against threatening tears, nuzzles her cheek into Yang’s hand. “I love you more than anything I could be scared of.”

“Can I kiss you?” Yang’s voice, touch, affection, everything, is so tender. Blake’s never felt anything but love from her.

“Please,” Blake breathes.

There’s no fireworks when she kisses Yang. There’s nothing dramatic to it. It’s just her heart settling in her chest where it belongs, finally content. It’s just pulling Yang closer and wanting her to know. There’s no more running. No more fear. Only love. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The ball is probably important to the plot. Watts shows up, I bet. Cinder and Neo are probably there too. Chaos ensues and all that. Don't ask me what happens. I don't know.  
> Lately, I've been 1) not writing at all, 2) writing at 4am when I can't sleep, or 3) hating everything I write. We'll see how this week goes :)


	2. meet the parents, part one

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been wanting to write this for a really long time! [Orange Trees by MARINA](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0H6vdQSXaR4) is the main inspiration/writing music, but it's not vital to the piece.

"I hope they know I'm coming," Blake says as the ship approaches the coastline. "I sent a letter before we left, but I'm not sure if they got it."

"They'll be happy to see you either way," Yang offers. She puts her arm over Blake's shoulders and kisses her temple. "I'm excited to meet them."

"I'm glad." Blake rests against Yang's solid frame. "They'll love you."

"How do you know?" Yang asks, playful and light-hearted.

Blake tilts her face to look at her. "Because I love you," she says, lips curling into a smile. Yang’s used to seeing her smile like that, but somehow, Blake’s sweet affection always makes her chest glow.

"Oh, really?" Yang teases. "I had no idea. I love you too." Blake rolls her eyes as she leans up for a kiss. When they part, Blake rests her head on Yang’s shoulder, staying close despite the warm sunshine.

“I can’t wait to be home,” she says, quiet.

Soon enough, they’re in Kuo Kuana. Blake walks slowly, lets Yang adjust to the heat and the people and the newness of it all. "It's beautiful here," Yang says to her. "So lively."

Blake squeezes her hand. "It is," she says. “I… I forget how much I miss it.”

As they walk through town, Yang watches Blake. Her confidence has grown more and more throughout all their recent adventures; this seems a little different. She responds when someone recognizes her, happily greeting familiar faces, leading Yang through familiar streets. She’s __home__. Yang likes the smile she has.

Yang tamps down her surprise when they reach the Belladonna house. She knew Ghira was the chieftain, but it’s a lot to take in. Blake almost skips up the steps; her enthusiasm and the genuine happiness on her face is endearing. Yang keeps pace with her until they reach the top, when she stays a step behind her. It’s all a little intimidating: the house, the unfamiliar place, and the persistent thought that she’s meeting her girlfriend’s parents. Blake glances over as they reach the door and takes her hand with a smile. Her touch is comforting.

She knocks. Yang tries to ignore the twist in her stomach as Blake bounces on her toes, waiting for the door to be answered.

"Hi, Mom!" she says as a woman opens the door, twin expressions of delight on their faces. Yang has time to note that Blake looks just like her mother before Blake drops her hand to hug her tightly.

“I’m so happy you’re here,” Kali says as she moves back, still holding onto Blake’s arms. “We’ve missed you so much.”

Blake brushes tears away with the back of her hand. “I’m glad I came to visit. And I brought my girlfriend.” Yang waves as Kali looks over at her. "This is Yang," Blake says, affection in her eyes.

"Oh?" Kali smiles at her, a sort of kindness to it Yang's unfamiliar with. "Nice to meet you, Yang."

"Nice to meet you too, Mrs. Belladonna." Yang matches her friendliness, unsure of what else to do. She's not really sure how to act with a mother figure.

"Please call me Kali," she says. "And please come in!"

Yang follows them, staying close to Blake. Kali keeps talking, so bright and cheerful. "Ghira will be back later. He'll be so happy to see you, Blake! How was the trip?”

“It was long,” Blake says. She smiles at Yang; it’s a quick expression, but the appreciation is clear. Yang has to smile too. She knows how much this means to Blake. “It’s worth it to see how you are and how the White Fang is doing.”

“We should talk about all that when your father’s home. Are you two tired?” Kali turns to look at both of them. “We can have dinner after you get a chance to rest.”

“I’d love to shower and change,” Yang says.

“A nap would be nice.”

Kali laughs. “You and your naps. I’ll show you her baby photos later, Yang.”

“Wait, that’s--”

“You know where your room is, Blake. I’ll grab some spare towels.”

Trying not to smile at Blake’s dramatic sigh, Yang follows her down a hallway. “I’m glad the house wasn’t too damaged after the fire,” Blake says as she pushes a door open.

“Fire?” Yang has to smile at what must be Blake’s room. It’s full of bookshelves, with plants here and there, beautiful windows and a very cozy looking bed.

“Oh, I uh, started a fire last time I was here.” Blake drops her bag at the foot of her bed, falling back into the purple blankets. She glances over to meet Yang’s shocked expression. “I’ll explain later.”

“Were you left alone in the kitchen?” Blake ignores the tease. Yang sets her bag next to Blake’s and stretches.

“Yang?” Kali pushes the door open, carrying towels. “Here you are,” she says, her tone warm, as Yang goes over to take them. “The bathroom is across the hall. Use whatever you need.”

“Thank you. I really appreciate it, Kali.”

“You’re welcome, sweetie. I’ll let you both know when dinner is ready, okay?”

“Thanks, Mom,” Blake says, still lying on her bed. Kali smiles at her daughter, a fond expression, before she goes; Yang stops to kiss Blake’s forehead as she gets her brush and hair products.

Taking a shower is nice. Ditching her full outfit and just wearing shorts and a tank top afterwards is better. Even so, Yang comes back into Blake’s room to find the curtains drawn, leaving just enough light to see her nestled in soft blankets and fast asleep. Seeing her so peaceful and safe, being able to join her, is the best feeling Yang knows. It’s easy to fall asleep.

When Yang wakes up, Blake is already awake. “Hi,” she whispers, blinking at her. Yang can’t help but yawn as Blake moves closer, laying an arm over her waist. “Thank you for coming with me,” she says. “I’m really happy you’re here.”

“I love you,” Yang mumbles. “I’d go with you anywhere.” She’s not really awake yet; it’s still true.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't have anything for tomorrow's prompt, so I'll post the second half then.


	3. meet the parents, part two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heyyyy I've got this done at least! Hope y'all are enjoying.

It smells like dinner is ready by the time they leave Blake’s room. Kali is almost done setting the table, smiling when she sees them. 

“I was about to go get you,” she says. Her cheery tone makes Yang feel oddly nostalgic. “Your dad is in the kitchen, Blake, he could probably use some help.” Blake heads for the kitchen and Yang tries to follow her. “Oh, Yang, please sit down. You're a guest." While Kali's smile is reassuring, it still feels awkward to sit and let everyone else do the work.

Hearing Blake talking makes her feel more at ease. It's followed by a deep and rumbly voice as they come into the dining room.

"--so much to tell you," Ghira says, carrying a steaming dish. He's the biggest man Yang's ever met and it's _more_ than a little intimidating. His expression is neutral as he meets her gaze and puts the dish on the table. She pushes her uneasiness down, standing up to shake his hand. 

"Hi, Mr. Belladonna," she says. "It's great to finally get to meet you."

"Please call me Ghira," he says, firmly taking her hand. "The feeling is mutual."

Dinner is lovely. The food is amazing. Blake's parents are wonderful. More than that, Blake is so happy. She's comfortable and enjoying herself and so at home; seeing her in such a familial setting tugs at Yang's heart in a way she doesn't understand.

Most of the conversation is about the White Fang, the progress they’ve made and obstacles to work through. Yang is content to be quiet, to listen, to watch her girlfriend be amazing and herself.

“So,” Kali eventually starts, turning her attention to Yang. “Catch me up. What’s happened since you all left Haven?”

“Did you not get any of my letters?” Blake’s got that cute worried crease in her forehead. She’s been trying to keep in touch with her parents; it’s hard when there’s barely time to send a letter before they move on. 

“We’ve gotten them,” Kali says, unbothered. “I want to hear it from you and Yang.”

They glance at each other. So _much_ has happened since Haven. “Well, we left Haven for Atlas,” Yang says. She looks to Blake again, laying a gentle hand on her arm. “Lots of scary things happened along the way.”

“In Argus, they wouldn’t let us into Atlas,” Blake continues. “We had to… commandeer a ship.”

“That went _horribly_ wrong.” Yang rolls her eyes.

“Among other things, Adam tried to kill us.” Blake stops; Yang feels everyone hold their breath. It’s still a difficult topic, still the stuff of nightmares, knowing what could have happened--

“He’s dead now,” Yang says, her tone a little sharper than she means it. Blake moves to hold her hand. She takes it, grateful for her touch.

“Atlas was bad,” Blake says. “Ironwood wouldn’t even lift a finger for us. And Weiss’s family is the _worst_.” She continues the story, filling in when Kali and Ghira have questions, especially about the conditions for Faunus in Mantle. 

“Now, we’re headed for Vacuo, I guess. I don’t think any of us are ready for Vale.” Yang shrugs, catching the reassuring smile from Blake.

“I just really wanted to see you.” Blake doesn’t say _I don’t know when I’m going to get to see you again._ Yang hears her. She holds her hand tightly. 

“We’re glad you’re here.” Kali smiles at her daughter. She stands up to clean the table off, as everyone is done eating. Ghira and Yang gather dishes.

“I’ll help clean up,” Yang glances to Kali. “I want to.”

“If you insist,” Kali says. Yang follows Ghira out of the dining room with her arms full of dishes, smiling at Blake as they leave. “You sure do like the blondes, honey,” she hears Kali say to Blake. She doesn’t hear the reply, but can’t hide her laughter.

Ghira and Yang don’t talk much as they do the dishes. It’s not awkward at all; Yang knows her way around father figures. They crack a few jokes at each other, and somehow, Yang manages to avoid the wrong things to say. It’s a comfortable quiet.

“So…” he starts, taking extra time with the plate in his hands. “You and Blake are… dating, right?”

“Yeah,” Yang says, unsure of what else to say. Even so, she ends up smiling at the dish she’s drying. She’s so grateful for Blake. Their relationship is the most safe and comfortable and joyful thing in her life. She’ll never get over the sparks of happiness that come with knowing Blake loves her too. “I love her so much. More than I could ever say.” Her voice gets thick and it’s a little embarrassing.

He seems like he’s about to say something when Blake speaks from behind them. "Dad, can you spare Yang?"

"Oh, Blake!" Her dad turns to face her with a grin. "I’m so glad you brought Yang home instead of Sun." Blake blushes as he nudges Yang. “She’s wonderful. And actually funny!"

Yang dries the last dish before she looks over. "I think I'm better than Sun in a lot of ways," she says. A teasing smile spreads across her face and she winks. "I mean, as long as you think so, Blake."

“Sun isn’t even a competitor,” Blake sighs. “Come on.”

Blake laces their fingers together as they walk through the house. "Let me grab something," she says, stopping at a door and opening it. It's just a closet; she pulls a blanket out of a pile. Yang takes her hand again when she's done. "Clingy," she teases.

Yang shrugs, unbothered. She knows Blake is affectionate as she is. "Where are we going?"

"You'll see," Blake says, a sweet smile on her face. "Somewhere I've wanted to take you for a really long time."

"Romantic," Yang murmurs, kissing her cheek. She's content to follow Blake out of the house and into the street. They take a winding path through town, and Yang knows exactly where they’re going when the sound of ocean waves becomes noticeable. 

The beach is beautiful. It’s not quite as hot as it was earlier in the day, as the sun sets into clouds, but the heat lingers. The salty air is a nostalgic reminder of home. Blake stops so they can take their shoes off and let their feet sink into the sand. They walk a little further before she spreads the blanket out, far from the water.

Yang sits down and leans back, resting on her hands; Blake settles down at her side. They soak in the peace.

“How long have you wanted to bring me here?” Yang asks, kissing her head.

“A while. I…” Blake pauses. She points out at the horizon. “You see that purple cloud? And the light part of it?” Yang nods. “That’s my favorite color. Ever since I was little. You can ask my mom.” Yang shifts to put her arm around Blake. “It’s the same color as your eyes,” she says, her voice soft.

“I love you.” 

Eventually, a chill breeze sets in and Yang can’t ignore Blake’s shivers any longer. They go back to the house, stars appearing in the night sky as they walk. Blake puts the blanket away before they go to her room, but Kali stops them in the living room.

“Blake, will you take this to your dad?” she asks, holding a tea tray. “He should be in the study.” 

Blake glances to Yang as she takes it. “Sure.”

“Yang, sit down with me.”

“Keep the baby photos to yourself!” Blake makes herself heard from the hallway; Yang laughs as she sits down.

"Can I ask you something, Yang?" Kali is quiet, hesitant almost. 

"Of course."

"You lost your arm protecting Blake, didn't you?"

"I did."

"Sun had mentioned it, but he wasn’t sure. I wanted to hear it from you."

Yang’s not sure what to say for a moment. "I thought he was going to kill her," she says. She absently realizes that it might not be the best thing to tell Blake's mother, but she can't stop once she starts. "I -- I know I was stupid, but I would have lost more than an arm for her if it was her life on the line. I still would." She folds her hands together, left thumb running over the metal of her right hand.

"Thank you for being there for my daughter," she says, her voice low. She looks at Yang again with tears in her eyes."Thank you for looking out for her."

"We look out for each other," Yang murmurs, the tiniest smile on her face.

"I'm so glad she has you." Kali stands up. Yang follows the motion, and despite her half a foot of height on Kali, Kali pulls her into a motherly hug. Yang freezes at first. She hasn’t had a Mom Hug in-- so long. The affection isn’t unwelcome. It’s just strange. Once she relaxes, it’s nice.

“You better not be telling her all my secrets,” Blake says. Kali lets go, laughing. Yang looks over at Blake. There’s no secrets when it comes to her soft expression.


	4. the unlikeliest of friends (au day)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you follow my main blog, you'll know that I'm just a helpless lesbian caught up in the Good Omens wave. These scenes are mostly all borrowed from Crowley and Aziraphale (is this fanfiction inception?) and I hope it's enjoyable even if you haven't seen the show.

**Six Days Before the End of the World**

The apocalypse is imminent. An angel and a demon get incredibly drunk together (because of course they do). After a nearly incoherent conversation about the brain capacity of sea creatures, Blake falls over onto her couch. It happens that Yang’s already sprawled on it; she likes to lounge on furniture. With the way she’s sitting up against the arm of the couch, and her foot out to the side, Blake falls into her lap. 

This wouldn’t happen if either of them were sober. But they’re not. And six thousand years of pining wears down on a person, angelic or otherwise. So Blake lets herself stay there, resting on Yang. Yang was never bothered in the first place. 

Blake is an angel. She doesn't need to sleep. She shouldn't even be able to. Yet here she is. Asleep on a demon's chest. She's even snoring, light breaths of air that only make her more endearing. Yang’s heart flutters. (Yang knows she doesn’t necessarily have a heart, or relate to the human conceptualization of the heart as the center of emotion. It just seems like an easy metaphor.)

Even if the heart thing is just a metaphor, she knows that her feelings for Blake are simple. She strokes a gentle hand through Blake’s hair and admires the soft curls. (Yang has beautiful curls of her own. They just have a habit of turning to flame when someone touches them.) Blake’s had six thousand years to perfect a friendly appearance; there’s never been anything remotely threatening about her. Yang would be jealous, if not for her insistence of being evil. Blake’s just beautiful.

“I love you, angel,” she breathes, pressing a kiss to her dark hair. _Someday you’ll let me tell you that when you’re not asleep_ , she doesn’t say. 

Blake makes a cute sound when she wakes up. She tilts her head to look at Yang.

"What was that for, then?" Yang asks, poking her cheek.

"What was what for?" Blake asks in return, blinking the sleep out of her eyes.

"Sleeping. You don't have to do it." There's almost a tone of offense, an unsaid _and using me as a pillow_ but Yang doesn't put heart into it.

"But I like it," Blake says, a sweet smile on her face.

A moment hangs in the air as Blake fights the urge to put her head back down. Yang was playing with her hair. It had been so nice. She's warm and Blake knows she's safe with her despite it all. She closes her eyes and sees the ruin of a church. “Yang-”

“I should be going,” she says, shifting uncomfortably. “You know. Evil plans to finish. Plants to water.”

“Of course.” Blake sits up to let Yang reclaim her limbs. “I’ll… see you soon.”

Yang tugs her jacket into place, fluffs out her hair. “Yeah.” The bell on the door rings as she leaves. Blake tries to convince herself that she’s not sad.

**1967, Soho, London**

It’s almost a surprise when Yang walks out into the street and sees someone familiar waiting at her motorcycle. It should be, at least, and it mostly is. It’s just, around Blake, a deep feeling of comfort interferes with most other negative emotions. It seems like Blake isn’t feeling the same at the moment. 

“Hey, stranger,” she says, hoping the stress radiating from Blake will go away.

It doesn’t. “I can’t let you risk your life. Not even for something so dangerous.” Blake hands her the thermos she’s been awkwardly holding at her side. It has cats on it. “Quit the scheming.”

“Holy water?” Yang asks, taking it gingerly. She hadn’t thought Blake would ever come around to her request.

“The holiest.” Blake is upset. She can tell. Yang tucks the thermos in her backpack, making sure other things are closer to her back than the holy water. _I’m not an **idiot** , Yang! _echoes in her mind.

“Should I say thank you?” she asks, unsure of what’ll make Blake feel better.

“Don’t.” She steps away, shoving her hands in the pockets of her coat. 

“Can I take you anywhere?” Yang sits down, gaze focused on her face. (Her eyes are red. They were violet, before she fell. Blake remembers the color. It's her favorite, to this day.) 

“I’m fine.”

"C'mon, angel. I'll give you a ride. Anywhere you want to go." Yang leans towards her, even as she straddles her motorcycle. The only wicked thing in her smile is the fact that it exists at all.

"You go too fast for me, Yang," she says, the cutting tone lost and replaced with nothing but the most bittersweet softness. She tries to ignore the way Yang’s expression falls, backlit by neon lights. She tries even harder to ignore her own regret. “Maybe sometime we can have a picnic. Go out for tea.”

“I’d like that,” Yang manages, as if her metaphorical heart isn’t breaking. 

Blake nods. “See you around,” she says.

Yang watches her walk away. 

**Monday, the Second Day of the Rest of their Lives**

After the world doesn’t actually end, Yang is hanging around the bookstore. Blake’s not going to stop her. They both need the company. (Specifically, each other’s, but she’s not sure if she’s going to admit that.) The kettle whistles in the kitchen. She’s on the couch reading. Her world feels at peace. 

Yang brings her a cup of tea. She knows just by looking at it that it’s perfectly made. “Thank you,” she says, setting it on the end table. Yang drops into the cushion next to her, their shoulders touching.

"Do you think this was all meant to happen?" she asks. Blake could assume she means _the end of the world not happening_. She knows better. She hears the unsaid _me and you?_

“Maybe. The Almighty’s plan is--”

“If you say _ineffable_ right now, I’m leaving,” Yang says. Blake smiles, moving a bit closer. She doesn't mean it and they both know it. 

This kind of comfortable quiet and affection, it seems like something they could have had, all this time. “I'm sorry it took me so long,” Blake says, quiet. She marks her place in her book and closes it, yet keeps her gaze on the floor. Yang covers her hand with her own. She tentatively looks up and finds that Yang is smiling. It’s an expression she can’t help but share. 

Yang holds her gaze and squeezes her hand. “I'd wait another six thousand years for you, angel.” She means it. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want you to know that Yang's not a snake, she's a magpie. Like an American one with the long feathers, but with the scary red eyes like the Australian ones. I think I'm hilarious.


	5. beacon days

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi I'm back ages later! 🤡 Writing is hard and life is hard.  
> This is set like right before volume 3, I think. I saw a couple of people do the same thing with this prompt, but I think at this point the bee fandom is a hivemind (ha!) so I'm not too bothered. Also, sorry for all the long sentences and the commas. Blake's POV does that to me.

Blake knows something is wrong the moment Yang gets out of bed. She stumbles as she hits the floor, something she’s never done, and seems sluggish. It’s a far cry from her usual routine of being the first to rise, throwing open the curtains and being a cheerful nuisance. “Yang?” she starts, just as Yang stops in the middle of their room, coughing. “Are you alright?”

Yang has to stop coughing before she can answer. Blake finishes tying her ribbon, watching her in the mirror. “I’m great,” she says, talking through a wheeze. “Never better.”

Blake doesn’t bother to reply to that. Instead, she stops Yang from moving with a hand on her arm so she can feel her forehead. “You’re _way_ too warm.”

“Nah, I run hot, y’know? I’m fine.” The smile Yang tries to give her is weak.

Blake rolls her eyes. “Yang, you’re sick.”

“Nope. I’m not sick. I never get--” She coughs again. Blake steps to the side.

“Get back in bed,” Blake says, tugging on her arm.

“No, I gotta… I gotta go running or something.” Despite her mumbled protest, Yang lets Blake guide her back to their makeshift bunkbed. She’s strangely compliant.

“You should sleep. Do you want me to grab you something from breakfast?” Yang shakes her head. “Here,” Blake says, lifting the blanket on her own bed. “I don’t want you to fall.” Yang stares at her blankly. Blake motions to her bed. "Get in."

Yang gets in. Blake carefully tucks the blanket around her, covering her shoulders, making sure it stays put. She doesn’t make eye contact, but there’s something about taking care of Yang, about the way Yang is letting her, about Yang in her bed; it feels like something shifts. She shoves it down.

“I’ll bring you lunch,” she says, lifting her gaze. Yang doesn’t look well, all puffy eyes and dark circles, but she’s focused on Blake. “Please sleep.”

“Okay,” Yang says, the hint of a smile in the curve of her lips. Blake hesitates before she goes; she wants to do something and she’s not sure what. She doesn’t dwell on it.

The routine of breakfast doesn’t change without Yang. Blake doesn’t expect it to. It’s not any less quieter, as their friends are lively even this early in the morning. It’s an average day. She just can’t shake the feeling that she should be with Yang. Or, not _should_ , there’s no obligation, she just _wants_ to. It’s a conflicting feeling. She tries to ignore it, though it persists through breakfast and into class.

Blake knows she’s supposed to be taking notes especially well today, as they’ll be for her and Yang, but staying focused is difficult. She listens and writes notes, enough to cover the basics; Ruby and Weiss will be willing to share the rest. Nothing Port or Oobleck or even Goodwitch can lecture about is interesting enough to keep her thoughts away from her partner.

Mostly, she thinks about how different Yang is. How she had known she would be a safe person even from the start, someone to trust in a fight, and how special Yang had turned out to be. So cheerful and generous and attentive even when she’s never deserved it, with a depth and complication to her that she could have never expected. When she’s not thinking about the variation on her sunshine smile, more soft and quiet and (potentially, she’s still watching for it) saved only for her, she replays the conversation in the empty classroom in her mind. Yang had been so vulnerable for her; she _knows_ that Weiss and even Ruby don’t know as much as Yang had told her. She was so patient with her stubbornness and so genuinely wanting to connect to her; _for the people **you** care about_ is an inescapable repetition in her mind and sometimes Blake wishes more than anything that when Yang had hugged her, held her tight, she had taken the opportunity to be as close to her as possible.

It’s hard to avoid comparisons to her first partner. She gives up on notes entirely, moving to sketching absently in the margins. (It’s a nervous habit. She’s not sure where it even came from.) She tries not to dwell on Adam too much. It’s never good. The longer she thinks, she comes to realize that _he_ was never good, to her or for her or any variation on it. There’s so much guilt there and her instinct is to carry it. That’s from him too, Blake knows.

Sometimes she wants to tell Yang about it all. There’s something about her that feels like the beginning of healing, of hope. She’s just not quite ready yet. Yang will be there when she is. She knows that in a kind of certainty that feels warm and safe and promising. When class is over, she looks down to see sunflowers in her notebook.

Lunchtime in the cafeteria is chaos. Normally, Blake lets Yang cut a path through the crowd, appreciating her height and broad shoulders. Today, she finds her own way. The more difficult task is figuring out what to bring back to their dorm. There’s soup, thankfully; she takes a bowl of both kinds. She’ll eat whatever Yang doesn’t, never the picky type even as a child. After adding potatoes, and a sandwich for herself, Blake takes the full tray and heads upstairs. No one stops her.

She opens the door to their room silently. She’s not sure if Yang is awake, and would rather not wake her up. Moving without a sound is so easy; she sets the tray on a desk and puts her bag down before looking over. Yang’s still asleep, still in her bed. She’s pulled the blanket tightly around herself, unlike her usual routine of throwing it on the floor in her sleep.

Blake goes over. Her forehead is still too hot, a little clammy. Her water bottle is almost empty, so she’s been drinking water. That’s a comfort. She takes it, going into the bathroom to fill it up in the sink; Yang is sitting up and blearily awake when she slips back into their room.

“Hi,” Blake says, quiet. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“It’s okay,” Yang says, voice rough, reaching for her water bottle. “Can I have that back?”

“Oh! Yeah, here.” Blake hands it to her. She busies herself with their food. “How are you feeling?” she asks, glancing over to her.

Yang looks up from where she was staring at the blanket. “Like shit.” The honest answer, with no added _but I’ll be fine!_ or joke or smile is a little surprising (but Blake likes that she’s the one Yang will answer directly).

“I’m sorry,” she says. Yang shrugs. “Here. Are you hungry?” She brings the tray over to her bed, setting it between them as she sits on the foot of the bed. Yang perks up a bit at the thought of food. “Take what you want, just eat slow, okay?” Yang picks up a bowl of soup and smiles at her.

“Thank you.” Blake drops her eyes, mumbles _you’re welcome_ before taking a bite of her sandwich. They eat without any more conversation until Yang has finished her soup and had a few bites of potatoes, and Blake is done with her share. She stacks their dishes, puts the tray back on the desk and sits on her bed again even though class starts soon.

“Do you need anything? Are you comfortable?” Yang doesn’t answer, already settling down. “I’ll go and let you sleep,” she says, quiet.

Yang reaches out, wraps her hand around Blake’s wrist as she moves off of her bed. “Stay?” she asks. Blake glances back, meets a sadness in her lilac eyes that goes beyond _I’m sick and I don’t feel good_. It pulls at her heart; she can’t say no. She doesn’t want to. She moves out of Yang’s grip to squeeze her hand.

“I’ll stay,” she says. “Let me grab a book.” Yang nods. Blake retrieves her most recent novel, turns to see that Yang has moved over in her bed and made more room for her. Her eyes are closed, expression soft, and Blake smiles. She sits down with her back against the headboard, close enough for comfort but giving Yang space.

“Wait,” Yang says, propping herself up with a worried frown. “You should be going to class. You don’t have to-” Blake gently pushes on her supporting shoulder. Yang flops back down, her worry turning into offense.

"It's okay. I couldn't focus anyway." Blake moves a stray curl out of her face before she can stop herself. Her fingertips brush against her forehead, following the curve of her temple down to tuck the curl behind her ear. Yang looks at her with something gentle and patient and too damn good for anything Blake’s ever deserved. She pulls her hand away slowly. “Go back to sleep,” she says, throat suddenly thick with emotion.

Yang lays her head down, on Blake's thigh. Blake shifts to give her more of a cushion; Yang curls closer. The quiet rests between them, comfortable and safe. “Thank you for taking care of me,” Yang says, her voice so low Blake’s almost unsure she said anything at all.

She sets a hand in her hair, tentatively smoothing curls into place and watching the way Yang relaxes, slipping closer to sleep. “Of course,” she whispers. Her breathing evens out. “Of course I’d take care of you.” _What else would I do? What else could I do when you deserve so much more than I can give you?_

She reads with her book in one hand, the other stroking Yang’s hair. She doesn’t fight any thoughts or feelings that come up. She doesn’t want to anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Not to me, not if it's you" has been in my head all summer. I'm not usually one for pining, but it really jumped out here.


	6. beach day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My favorite prompt is next and I've already written most of it! See y'all soon.  
> 

Yang can feel her gaze at the moment she's conscious enough to feel anything. She takes her time. Enjoying the comfort of a real bed and a good night's sleep is a rare occasion. Plus, they’ve stopped in Patch. She’s in her room, in her house, with her dad and her team. It’s good to be home.

When she opens her eyes, Blake's staring at her. Her chin rests on her arms as she lies on her stomach, body pressed close to her own; her golden eyes are intent and unchanging. Yang can't help but smile. Waking up to Blake in her bed never feels like anything less than a miracle, no matter how many times it happens.

"Why are you staring?" she asks.

"I was waiting for you to wake up and pay attention to me," Blake says, a satisfied tone to her voice. “You’re awake now.”

“Oh, I am? Are you sure? I could just--” Yang lets her head fall into the pillow, shutting her eyes and making a dramatic snoring sound. She tries to not react to Blake’s laughter; a smile sneaks its way onto her face anyway.

“You are _such_ a goof,” Blake says, and Yang feels her shift on the bed, feels her move up and settle her weight across her hips. She keeps her head back and her eyes closed. Blake will play along. She feels tension crackle in the air between them until Blake leans closer, dark hair slipping from her shoulder and brushing against Yang’s bare arm before their lips meet.

It’s quite a while before they manage to leave her room and go downstairs to get breakfast. They join the table, Yang immediately taking a plate and piling bacon and eggs and toast onto it. Weiss stares at Blake intently, her message so clear Yang can hear her saying _you’re ** **so**** not subtle_, until Blake’s cheeks turn pink and she glances down. Yang hands her a plate with a smile saved only for her.

“Yang!” They both wince; getting Nora to use an inside voice is never easy. “We’re going to the _beach_ today!” Yang, with her mouth full of food, raises an eyebrow at Ruby.

“It’s relaxation and team bonding day,” Ruby says, eyes bright with enthusiasm. Of course it was her idea.

“As if the two can coexist,” Weiss says. She rolls her eyes; even so, the warmth in her tone betrays her.

The chatter continues. Blake and Yang eat, listening to and engaging with their friends. It’s comfortable and enjoyable and everything life should be. (She can’t forget the weight on their shoulders but at least here, at least at home, they can relax.)

Yang turns to her, setting a hand on her thigh and tuning out the noise. “Hey, will you braid my hair before we go? It’ll be a mess otherwise.”

Blake meets her eyes in a moment of hesitation before responding. “Yeah, of course,” she says, her voice quiet. “Are you sure you don’t want to do it yourself?”

“Yeah, it won’t be as good,” Yang answers, trying to piece together why Blake would ask in the first place. It clicks. She turns to look at her. “I like it when you do my hair.” The smile, the blush, the way her gaze drops, all confirm her guess. _You're my entire world,_ she wants to say. _There's nothing of me I wouldn't give you._ She leans forward to kiss her forehead instead.

They wrap up with breakfast, everyone scattering to clean up and get beach supplies together. Yang helps Ren take dishes to the sink before going back to her room, where Blake is looking through a dresser drawer.

“Looking for something?” Yang teases, closing the door behind her. Blake startles and almost hits her head.

“I just wanted a sweater,” she says, the hint of a whine in her voice.

Yang stifles laughter. “There should be one in the bottom drawer. Can you hand me my swimsuit out of the top one?” Blake gives it to her as she opens the right drawer, and even though Yang is turning away, she sees the bright and pleased smile as Blake pulls out a yellow sweater.

The beach isn’t too far of a walk away. Ruby leads the way, Nora right behind her, their group (family, Yang finds herself thinking) brimming with enthusiasm. There’s a contentment in her heart to be back at home, but not alone. There’s a comfort to it she can’t express. She reaches for Blake instinctively, finding her hand and lacing their fingers together.

They picked the perfect day. School’s in session, and it’s getting colder. The beach is beautiful but empty. The sunshine glitters in the water, shining and shifting beams of light in the deep blues and greens. Yang loves the ocean, loves being at home in Patch, loves comfort and familiarity, loves it especially with Blake at her side. They’re the last ones on the sand, half of their group sprinting for seemingly no reason and the other half following them serenely. Blake turns to smile at her, happiness coming so easily, and Yang’s heart twists.

“Pick a spot,” she says, letting her take the lead. Blake squeezes her hand. She settles on a dip in the sand further out from the water, a nice view and warm from the sunshine.

“It’s so pretty here,” she says, laying out her blanket. Yang pulls her shirt off, tossing it onto their bag.

“I’m just glad it’s not raining.” She glances up while taking her shorts off to see Blake’s eyes firmly on her. She tries not to look too pleased with herself as Blake watches her move. It’s never been uncommon for other people to find her attractive, but she had never wanted it, never wanted the attention from anyone until Blake. There’s a safety and security to her that Yang’s never had, never wanted to be known in the way she wants Blake to know her. It’s special, one of a kind, once in a lifetime, any synonymous phrase with _soulmates._

She has to smile at Blake, still making intense eye contact, and shake her head to toss her braid over her shoulder. “So silence _does_ speak louder than words,” she teases, and Blake can’t stop herself from laughing. She’s about to say something, Yang about to move closer, magnetism drawing them together; but there’s a flash of motion and Ruby almost slaps Yang in trying to tap her shoulder.

“Tag!” she yells behind her, trying to move as fast as she can through the sand (though not using her Semblance) and Yang looks helplessly to Blake.

“Go,” Blake says, a sweet smile on her face. They both know Yang could never stay away for too long. Yang winks and turns to chase her sister.

They play in the water for a while. Blake comes to join them at one point, not venturing too far in; her ears flatten at the sight of Nora throwing herself headfirst into a wave and Yang has to stifle a laugh.

As cute as her ears are, Blake in her swimsuit is something Yang doesn’t have words for. (Well, anything beyond _hey on second thought the beach is lame do you wanna go back like right now immediately?_ ) It’s a classic black two-piece, white ties at the sides; you’d think Yang would be used to her exposed muscles and beautiful curves since she loves crop tops so much, but no. She’s always wrecked by how gorgeous Blake is. Even without her boots, her legs are long and her hips and thighs are perfect, she’s all smooth skin and messy dark hair and a teasing smirk and god _damn_ Yang is staring and she doesn’t care.

Not until she’s splashed, and a white ponytail flashes in the corner of her vision. “You looked like you needed to cool down,” Weiss says, a smirk firmly on her lips and a spark in her eyes.

Yang looks to Blake; Blake shrugs. It’s a good diversion. “You’re on your own.” Just as she says it, Yang turns and tackles Weiss into a wave. She thinks she can hear Blake laughing before water drowns it out.

After running away from Weiss, and a game of volleyball with Nora, Ren and Jaune, Yang goes back to Blake. She’s so beautiful, short hair loose and tousled, wearing an ancient sweater of Yang’s, lying in the shade and reading. She doesn’t look up as Yang approaches, but an ear twitches as her feet shift in the sand.

“Babe,” she says, throwing herself down next to Blake, stretching out with her legs in the sunshine and her head nudging Blake’s arm. She doesn’t say anything else, but Blake moves, pulls her book up so she can lay her head in Blake’s lap.

“What?” she asks, setting her hand on Yang’s arm.

Yang smiles up at her. “Nothing. I just wanted to call you babe.” Blake gets that sweet surprised look on her face, like she never expects Yang’s affection.

“I love you,” she murmurs, moving to shift her bangs out of her face. Yang responds softly, adoration filling her chest.

They fall into an easy quiet. Blake strokes her hair, follows the path of the braid she made, idle gentle touches as she reads. Yang closes her eyes. The waves are a steady repetition of sound. The sunshine keeps her body warm in the cool breeze. Someone is yelling at someone else. There’s sand in every place sand can be, but she can’t bring herself to care. Blake is a wonderful pillow. There are birds calling in the distance. All she can focus on is being loved, happy, safe, even if their moments of peace are fleeting. She’ll soak it up while she can.


	7. future / growing up

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Vol7 give me cuddling bees or give me death!!!

She’s on first watch, as the natural night owl of the group. Keeping the fire alive and staying alert is easy. The moonlight aids her night vision and the breeze carries nothing but sounds of the various forest life around them. It’s a beautiful setting, even if Blake’s thoughts are full of trying to save the world. She allows herself to be still, to find a moment of calm, to create some peace in her busy mind. It’s not easy. At least it’s easier than it used to be.

(She doesn’t spend too much energy on it, but thinking of the person she used to be is overwhelming when she thinks of herself now. There’s been so much change in her life. It’s mostly good. She’s grateful that the red fingerprint scars of someone else’s influence have healed over. They’re still there, but they don’t own her story. She’s moved on, to better versions of herself, to a golden type of love.)

Blake watches the shattered moon cross the sky and thinks about healing. It’s a few hours later when she goes to wake up Weiss. She gets up easily, making no comments on the chilly night or the time of her watch or the lack of sleep. Blake stays for a moment, making sure Weiss is awake enough, before going to her sleeping bag.

It’s set up right next to Yang’s. (She knows it’ll be even closer by morning.) If Blake was forced to find a silver lining in their whole _trying to save the world against all odds_ situation, it would be this. It would be Yang, safe and asleep and calm. Their work is never done, their effort is never enough, but she can’t seem to care too much while they’re together. It doesn’t mean she doesn’t wish things were different. Yang’s peaceful, but Blake knows they both sleep lightly. Her chest clenches in sorrow at the thought. Yang deserves a safe and comfortable and happy life. They both do.

She tries to get into her sleeping bag without waking her; it’s a worthy attempt that’s never going to succeed. There’s a harsh line of tension in Yang’s body before Blake whispers _it’s just me_ and reaches out, lays her hand on her wrist for a second.

“Hi,” she murmurs, waiting until Blake is settled before lacing their fingers together. She's sleepy, blonde hair kept up messily, a soft love in her eyes as she turns towards Blake. "You know, I was thinking."

"Hmm?" Blake moves closer, resting her head on her arm.

"How many kids do you want to have?" Yang asks, so casually, and Blake's heart stops and starts again.

"What," she says, throat too tight to make it sound like a question.

"After this. When it’s all done." Yang pauses, startled by Blake's own shock. "I guess I assumed you want kids someday--"

"With you," she finally manages. "Of course, with you."

Even in the dark, Yang’s smile shines. “Okay, then how many?”

“Well,” Blake says, thoughtful. “I was always jealous of kids who had siblings. Being an only child is lonely.”

“We can’t have just two. The older one will pick on the younger one. It’ll be such a mess.” Yang shifts closer while she talks; Blake follows suit until their sleeping bags are pressed together.

“Okay, but uneven numbers never work out. They’ll gang up on each other and one will be left out.” Yang presses kisses to her face. A smile curls over Blake’s lips. “We’ll have to settle for four.”

“Four? I mean, why stop there?” Yang asks, and Blake has to duck down and stifle laughter in her shirt. “We could go for six or eight or-- oh my god, what if we adopted a whole orphanage?” She feels Yang shaking too; joy is a much better feeling than any they’ve come by recently. “I’m serious. After saving the world, we can handle anything.”

Blake’s laughed so hard there are tears in her eyes. “I love you,” she says, moving to look Yang in the eye and hold her cheek in her palm. “I love you so much.” _Thank you for loving me, for being everything I’ve always needed, how can I ever live up to the love you’ve given me?_ It’s not the right place or the right time to voice those thoughts, but Blake knows Yang hears her anyway. That’s enough.

Yang kisses her. “I love you too,” she whispers. “And I love our twelve children.” Blake returns her kiss (as soon as she’s done laughing).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I definitely see them with lots of bumblebabies in canon!  
> Anyway, I know we're like, two months past the ship week, but I'm really happy I was able to write the remaining prompts at all :') Please leave a comment if you liked it and reblog the link post if you see it! Thank you all so much for reading!


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